


The Blood on my Hands

by WhenTheCanonShootsOnlyBlanks



Category: Jane the Virgin (TV)
Genre: F/F, Gunshot Wounds, blood tw, slight AU
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-23
Updated: 2015-12-23
Packaged: 2018-05-08 15:58:57
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,960
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5503886
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WhenTheCanonShootsOnlyBlanks/pseuds/WhenTheCanonShootsOnlyBlanks
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When Luisa wakes up from a knock to her door in the middle of the night, she is surprised to find Rose on the other side, bleeding heavily and asking for her help.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Blood on my Hands

**Author's Note:**

> So, this would be set after s.1 and the return of Mateo, but before Luisa's kidnapping and everything that happened after.  
> Just another little one-shot.
> 
> Enjoy!

Luisa woke with a start. She blinked a couple of times, trying to figure out where she was and what had woken her.

She looked around the room once her eyes had adjusted to the semi darkness. It was still dark outside but her TV was on. She noticed the outlines of her new furniture in its blue glow. She was in her own living room, she hadn’t lived here long and with the disorientation that came from sleep, she hadn’t recognized it at first.

She must have fallen asleep while watching TV, she stared at the woman’s bouncing breast in sleepy confusion. She was certain she had notbeen watching _that_ when she fell asleep. She must have slept longer than she thought, the channel had apparently switched to its late night programming. Luisa stretched, reaching for the remote to shut off the TV.

She had no idea what had woken her, the TV had been on mute, but at least she could crawl into her own bed now and sleep comfortably for the rest of the night, and probably much of the next day. She no longer had any responsibilities. No job, no wife, no girlfriend, no one who expected anything of her, so she just lay in bed. As she was about to step into her bedroom, she heard it: a rapid knock on her front door.

She frowned, checking the clock on the wall. Who the hell would be knocking on her apartment door at 2:46 AM?

She turned back around, warily approaching the door. She looked through the spy-hole but saw nothing. She was probably imagining things, sleep deprivation and all that.

She leaned back against the door, releasing a loud yawn. She should really get into bed, she was falling asleep standing up. The suddenness of the next knock startled her awake. She had felt the vibrations through the wood. So she wasn’t imagining things. That was a first.

She raised a hand to her pounding heart and looked through the spy-hole again. Still seeing nothing. ‘Okay, whoever you are, it is the middle of the night, really not the time to be playing games. Go away!’ she yelled through the closed door. ‘I know karate!’ she added after she heard some stumbling on the other side of the door.

‘No you do not,' came the muffled reply from the other side.

The voice sounded strangely familiar… ‘Well, I dated a pro-wrestler for a while, so yeah…’

Luisa knew that voice, but that didn’t make any sense, what could _she_ possibly be doing here? In the middle of the night no less. She stood there motionless. Her mouth hanging open, suddenly realizing she must still be dreaming. There was no other reason for Rose to be standing on the other side of her door. She had to be dreaming.

‘Could you unlock the door please?’ Rose said. ‘I don’t want to wake your neighbors.’

Luisa snapped out of her stupor and unlocked the door, opening it slowly to reveal Rose slumped against the wall. Her hair was shorter and blonde, but she would recognize the blue eyes hidden behind a pair of horn-rimmed glasses anywhere.

‘What the hell are you doing here?’ she hissed.

‘I was in the neighborhood,' Rose said tersely, a grimace appearing on her face as she slid down the wall a little.

It was then that Luisa noticed Rose was clutching her shoulder and her skin was almost deadly pale.

‘Are you okay?’ Luisa asked, taking a step towards the other woman.

‘Can I come in please?’ Rose said, pushing herself of the wall, staggering towards Luisa, her face contorted in pain.

‘Rose, what is going?’ Luisa said, putting her hands on Rose’s shoulder to lead her into the apartment. Only to immediately pull back as Rose let out a strangled scream.

She looked at her left hand, and even in the dim lighting of the hallway she could see what was unmistakably blood covering her palm.

‘Oh my god you are bleeding!’ she stage whispered, looking back at Rose with a horrified expression.

‘Just a little,' Rose said, her eyes closed and her teeth clenched, taking measured breaths.

‘What happened?’ Luisa said, ushering Rose into her apartment, closing the door behind them and flipping the lights on.

‘I got shot,' Rose said, all but collapsing onto Luisa’s couch, groaning in pain as the movement caused her more pain.

‘You got shot?!’ Luisa nearly yelled, her eyes so wide they were almost popping out of their sockets.

‘It was just a through-and-through. I only need stitches,' Rose said, setting to work on removing her black trench coat, which was hard to do as it was saturated with her blood and stuck to the wound in her shoulder.

‘And you came to me? You should go to a hospital! I am, well was, an OB/GYN, I don’t do _gunshots,'_ Luisa said, staring at the woman on the couch in disbelief.

Rose looked up, her face even paler in clear lighting. ‘If I go to a hospital they won’t let me leave. And I am kind of attached to my freedom.’

‘And why should I help you? You killed my father!’ Luisa said, pacing around the room, no idea what she should do.

‘You’re right. You should probably call the police. But I might bleed out before they decide to take me to a hospital,' Rose said, wincing as she finally managed to pull the ruined fabric away from her equally ruined shoulder.

Luisa stared numbly at Rose’s heavily bleeding shoulder. She should call the cops, she didn’t owe her anything. It would be justified. But Rose was right, she was losing blood at an alarming rate and Luisa couldn’t just do nothing. She was still a doctor.

She kneeled next to Rose on the couch, inspecting the wound, biting her lip the whole time. She could feel herself starting to panic as she took in the damage. If she didn’t close the wound soon Rose was going to bleed out and die. Her mind was conjuring up plenty of reason why that would be bad, but she was too preoccupied to pick one.

The wound was indeed a through-and-through like Rose had said, but the bullet hole on the anterior side was bigger and ragged.

‘You got shot in the back,’ Luisa concluded, standing up to grab a towel to press to the wound, wanting to prevent any more blood loss while she fetched her first aid kit from the bathroom.

‘I was,' Rose said, not elaborating on it any further.

Luisa, suddenly feeling angry, pressed it to Rose her shoulder, hard. Rose groaned in response.

Luisa, feeling a tiny bit bad about it, decided to medically justify it. ‘You have to keep pressure on it. Or you’ll lose more blood. And then you really are in a lot of trouble. How did you even get here?’ she asked as she disappeared into her bathroom, returning a second later with the first-aid kit.

‘I was in the neighborhood. And I obviously needed a doctor, fast. And I trust you,' Rose said, looking up at her.

‘I am just going to stop the bleeding,' Luisa said, not meeting Rose’s eyes. ‘Then you are on your own.’ She rummaged through her medical supplies, noticing a very important one was missing. ‘Shit,' she cursed, she had forgotten that she had thrown away her rubbing alcohol the last time she fell off the wagon. Not trusting herself to not turn herself blind because she needed a drink.

‘What’s wrong?’ Rose said, trying to lean forward, cursing as her body prevented her from doing so.

So many things. Luisa thought. For one, my ex-lover/ex-stepmother/my father’s killer/crime-lord is bleeding out on my couch in the middle of the night. But she couldn’t very well tell Rose that. ‘I don’t have anything to sterilize the wound. It will get infected.’

Rose smiled, weakly but a smile. ‘Check my coat pocket,' she said, motioning to her coat which had fallen to the floor.

Luisa raised a skeptic eyebrow, but did as Rose said. She hadn’t yet lost enough blood to be completely delirious. She sighed and searched Rose’s coat pocket, producing a bottle of rubbing alcohol, staring at it in confusion. ‘Why do you have this?’

‘I was kind of hoping you wouldn’t have any alcohol at your place,' Rose smiled, her eyes soft, but that might have just been the blood loss.

Luisa was too stunned to answer that. Her evil ex-stepmother was apparently concerned for her sobriety. Great. She frowned and shook her head in confusion. ‘Do you always carry this with you or did you stop at a drugstore while you were bleeding out to pick it up?’ Luisa said, staring between the bottle and Rose.

‘Does it matter?’ Rose said, letting out another pained groan as she moved a little, the towel was already saturated with her blood.

‘I guess not,' Luisa said, putting on a pair of surgical gloves, pouring alcohol on a clean towel, taking the stained towel away from Rose’s shoulder, carefully wiping around the wound, getting an idea what she was dealing with exactly.

Rose hissed as the alcohol came into contact with the open wound.

Once Luisa had cleaned up most of the surrounding blood and could finally see the bullet hole, she flinched a bit.

‘This might hurt,' she said as she softly palpated the area around the wound. ‘Well, it missed your clavicle, that’s good, that means there are no bone splinters for me to remove. It seems it missed the subclavian artery as well. You would probably be dead if it hadn’t. So, you’re lucky,' she said, watching the blood ooze out of the wound. She poured some more alcohol directly onto the wound. Earning her another loud hiss and a glance from Rose.

‘If you think that hurts, wait until I start actually stitching you up. I don’t have anything to numb the pain,' Luisa said, picking up a surgical sewing kit.

‘It will still be preferable to bleeding out,’ Rose said, taking deep breaths, her eyes closed.

‘It will scar,' Luisa said, as she positioned the needle, her hands shaking a little. ‘Suturing was never my greatest strength.’

Rose smiled weakly, her eyes still closed. ‘I would not have guessed that. You are otherwise so skilled with your hands,' Rose said, her blue eyes blinking open to stare at Luisa, who felt a blush creep into her cheeks.

‘Well, I chose my specialty for a reason,’ Luisa said, her blush deepening when one corner of Rose’s mouth pulled up into a knowing smirk. ‘It doesn’t involve much suturing,' she finished, concentrating on her work instead of the infuriating woman she was working on.

‘I would rather have a scar inflicted by you than die on the way to my plastic surgeon,' Rose said through clenched teeth. ‘And if I got there on time he would probably decide it was more convenient for him to let me bleed out.’

Luisa decided not to comment on that. Instead focusing on closing the wound as neatly as possible. She really didn’t want to mar Rose’s beautiful skin. Which was really not something she should be thinking off right now.

Luisa was impressed with Rose’s tolerance for pain, she was certain that if someone was stitching her up without any anesthetic she’d faint. Hell, she would have fainted as soon as someone held a gun on her. But Rose was acting like she had just cut herself cooking, not like a 9 mm bullet had just tore a hole through her shoulder.

‘You are awfully calm about being shot, you know,' Luisa said, not taking her eyes of the wound.

‘It isn’t the first time,’ Rose said, staring straight ahead, her jaw locked tight.

Luisa frowned. ‘But you don’t have any scars. I would know.’

‘I have a great plastic surgeon. He’s a weak-willed wimp. But he has his uses,' Rose said. ‘I prefer your work, though,' Rose said, looking down at Luisa as she put the finishing touches on the stitching.

Luisa could feel a blush coming on, she hated that Rose could still do that. She never blushed goddammit, especially not when murdering crime-lords payed her compliments. ‘I still haven’t decided if I am going to turn you in or not,' Luisa said tersely, turning Rose around so she could close the entrance wound as well.

‘Your choice,' Rose groaned. ‘I am in no state to run.’

‘Why do you trust me so much?’

‘Because I do,’ Rose said softly.

Luisa’s mouth fell open and her hands stilled. ‘What does _that_ mean?’ Luisa said.

‘Well, you just saved my life. And even if you turn me in, you’d be right to do so. I’ve been horrible to you and I deserve it. And I would have gotten to see you one last time,' Rose sighed.

Luisa stared at the back of Rose’s head in stunned silence. ‘You must have lost more blood than I thought. You are clearly delusional,' Luisa said, trying to swallow the lump in her throat.

‘I’m not delusional,' Rose said, trying to look over her shoulder until she realized that hurt, a lot. ‘Are you almost done?’

‘Sorry, do you have somewhere to be?’ Luisa bit out, it was easier to be angry than to let her _other_ feelings for Rose cloud her mind.

‘No, but this is getting tedious,’ Rose said.

‘Tedious. Only you would describe getting stitched up because you got shot as _tedious,'_ Luisa huffed.

‘What would you describe it as then? Because it is most certainly not fun.’

‘Painful,' Luisa said after a moment of consideration. ‘I would describe it as painful.’

‘Well, that is certainly true,’ Rose said, flinching as Luisa finished her stitching, pouring more alcohol on it.

‘So who shot you?’ Luisa said as she started to dress the wound.

‘A dissatisfied colleague. He lost a lot of profits when I stepped out of the drug game years ago,' Rose said, watching Luisa’s hands work with interest.

‘So he _shot_ you?’ Luisa exclaimed in disbelief.

‘That is always a risk when you meet in person. Especially when they learn a woman has been calling the shots all along. Misogynistic asshole,' Rose grumbled.

Luisa couldn’t help but smile at Rose’s last comment. ‘Did you tell them you’re gay too? That would have really rubbed them the wrong way,’ Luisa blurted out before she could think about it.

‘No, but I’ll keep that in mind the next time I expect to get shot at,' Rose said, a small smile playing around her blue lips.

‘Shit,' Luisa cursed silently, pressing the back of her hand to Rose’s forehead. Feeling the warm and clammy skin. She looked Rose in the eyes, noticing for the first time they were a little hazy. She stood up and grabbed a water bottle from the fridge. Suddenly she felt her anger changing into fear. Fear that Rose was really going to die on her. It just registered that Rose was actually fighting for her life. That she hadn’t just come her to make Luisa uncomfortable and to mess with her head. She was actually in danger.

‘Drink,' she said as she twisted off the top and pressed the bottle into Rose’s good hand. ‘You need to replenish fluids, you lost a lot of blood.’

Rose sluggishly moved the bottle to her lips, taking a few sips, before she had to lower her arm again. ‘I’m tired,' Rose sighed, her eyes closed.

‘Yeah, I know. But you really need to drink,’ Luisa said, growing more worried with the second as she felt Rose’s weak pulse underneath her fingertips. ‘Your heart can’t pump as well because there is not enough blood in your body. You have to drink this, or you might die, and I would rather not have that,' Luisa said, bringing the bottle to Rose’s lips, forcing her to drink.

‘Don’t worry. I’d never die on you,' Rose said, her hand moving to cover Luisa’s own. ‘I have all these lives I still need to ruin.’

‘Not funny, Rose,' Luisa said, getting a second bottle of water.

‘No, you’re right. It isn’t funny. And I’m sorry. For everything. For committing you, for killing your father, for showing up here tonight. It was selfish of me. I’m sorry,' she finished, leaning her head back against the couch.

‘Let’s get you in bed,’ Luisa said, not knowing how to feel about Rose’s apology.

‘You’re going to let me stay?’ Rose said, smiling weakly.

‘Well, I would feel bad about kicking you out right now, as you would probably die on my doorstep and then I would have to move again,' Luisa said, carefully helping Rose stand up, watching alertly as the taller woman swayed precariously on her feet.

‘You okay?’ Luisa said, steadying Rose with a hand on her waist.

‘Yeah, just a little faint. I can walk. I think,' Rose said, struggling to keep her eyes all the way open.

Luisa half dragged, half carried Rose towards her bedroom. Helping her lay down and covering her with a blanket, taking off the now-blonde’s glasses.

‘You’re not joining me?’ Rose asked, her lips doing something approximating a smirk, but with her deadly pale, skin, blueish lips and dark circles under her eyes, the effect wasn’t the same.

‘Someone has to clean up the mess in the living room,' Luisa said, rolling her eyes.

‘Shouldn’t you be keeping an eye on me though? Make sure I don’t die in my sleep? Having me die in your bed would be a lot harder to explain than me dying on your doorstep.’

Luisa narrowed her eyes, impressed with Rose her reasoning capabilities even in this reduced mental state. Must be the lawyer in her. ‘Fine,' Luisa said, pointedly laying down on top of the covers on the other side of the bed.

Rose smiled tiredly at her, her eyes falling closed, it wasn’t long before her breathing evened out. Luisa carefully got up. Staring at Rose’s face while she slept was bringing back too many memories. What she should see was a wanted criminal sleeping in her bed. But what she saw was Rose, the woman she loved, almost dying. She saw memories of stolen nights spent in hotel rooms, of early mornings before one of them had to slip away. All of the good, fun things. Not the bad things. Not who Rose really was, not who she should see her as.

And that was the hardest part, she couldn’t reconcile the Rose she had known for years with Sin Rostro. It didn’t make sense. She didn’t want it too. There was no way the woman who blushed so prettily whenever Luisa kissed her in a specific way could be a coldblooded killer. She sighed, shooting one last look at Rose’s sleeping form before silently closing the door.

She cleaned up the bloodied towels and all the other things that belied someone had almost bled out on her couch. As soon as everything was back in order, she fell back down on the couch, in the same position she had woken up in hours earlier. She sighed trying to get comfortable. But despite the early hour, she couldn’t fall asleep. So instead she checked on Rose every twenty minutes to make sure she was still breathing and not bleeding through her bandages.

The sun was already coming up when Luisa finally fell into a fitful sleep on the couch. Dreaming of blood, gunshots and Rose dying in her arms. She woke up gasping for breath, tears in her eyes. She flew up to check on Rose, fearing her dream might be a premonition of some kind.

It wasn’t. Instead of Rose, she found an empty bed that looked as if nobody had slept in it at all. Let alone a grievously wounded someone. She frowned. It wasn’t possible for Rose to have made the bed with only one good hand. So had she dreamed it all? Did she dream Rose showing up at her door in the middle of the night, bleeding profusely? No, it couldn’t be a dream. It was too real. Besides, dreams about Rose where they didn’t end up naked were very rare. But where was Rose? Why were there no traces off her anywhere?

Luisa sighed and flopped down on her bed, raising a hand to her head, stopping the motion halfway when she noticed the dried blood under her nails. A smile broke across her face. She hadn’t dreamt it. Rose had really been here, and she had been bleeding. It hadn’t been a dream. So where was she now?

She got up and checked the other rooms. There was no trace of Rose anywhere, until she came back to the living room and sat down on the couch. There was a blanket on the floor, she vaguely remembered throwing it off of her when she stormed out to check on Rose, and she was certain there hadn’t been a blanket anywhere near the couch when she fell asleep. So Rose must have put it on her before sneaking out of the house like a thief in the night, which was a pretty apt description.

She picked up the blanket to fold it, but as she did, a note fluttered to the ground. She stared at it for a few seconds before reaching for it and folding it open.

It wasn’t in Rose’s normally elegant writing, but Luisa recognized it enough to conclude it was still Rose’s script. The woman did get shot in the shoulder of her dominant arm the night before so a little trouble writing was to be expect.

_Luisa,_

_Thank you for everything, for saving my life, for not getting me arrested, for letting me stay the night. I didn’t deserve any of it. I don’t deserve you, and I never will. I don’t want to overstay my welcome so I’ll be leaving now. I didn’t want to wake you, as you could surely use some sleep. Once again, I would like to apologize for getting you involved in all of this. Falling for you was never part of the plan, and it made both of our lives incredibly messy. Yours more than mine, I am sure._

_I’m sorry. For hurting you, repeatedly. For everything._

_It would be better if we never spoke again. But I am certain I can’t do that. I love you too much. And I have no right to ask this of you, but if you can find it in your heart to forgive me, call this number._

_I love you_

_\- Rose_

Luisa wiped at her eyes as her tears started to blur the ink. She felt weak and pathetic. Why hadn’t she called the police? Or an ambulance? Or done something resembling normal behavior when a wanted criminal showed up at her doorstep bleeding? Luisa wished she could answer those questions in any other way than the answer flitting through her mind: that she hadn’t done any of that because she still loved Rose. And judging from her letter, Rose still loved her. Why else would she risk getting arrested? Rose must have believed, or at least hoped, that she wouldn’t turn her in. And she hadn’t. Because she didn’t want Rose to get arrested, thrown in jail, and most likely executed for her crimes.

She turned the note over, staring at the phone number. She looked around her empty apartment then back to the note in her hand and made a decision.

She grabbed her phone and dialed the number, waiting for the other side to pick up.

**Author's Note:**

> Comments are always appreciated! 
> 
> If you have any questions or just want to talk to me, you can find me on tumblr [writersblockisabitch](http://writersblockisabitch.tumblr.com)
> 
> Anyway, thanks for reading!


End file.
